


My Thoughts, I Confess, Verge On Dirty

by DynamicDuo (XylB)



Category: DCU (Comics), Titans (Comics)
Genre: Blowjobs, M/M, PWP, Sex Pollen, Trans Male Character, Trans Roy Harper, fully consensual, some Atlantean biology that's human but to the left, spins wheel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:07:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28887345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/XylB/pseuds/DynamicDuo
Summary: "Harper, which one was it? I have antidotes to the lethal ones on me - "Roy shakes his head with a grimace. Detaches a small device from his belt that Dick gave to him months ago, when he started hanging out around Gotham rogues more, and presses the sensor to his skin. Tilts the screen when it comes up with a blue light, pulses once, twice.No, it's not one of the lethal ones."I'm fine," he repeats, stowing the device. Damian glares at his hand, as if he wants to snatch the device, but he knows better than to touch a potentially contaminated Roy."Let me take you back," Damian insists, but Roy shakes his head. He's familiar with this toxin. He's inhaled it before. It's designed to be a massive inconvenience, but it won't hurt him.And he's got about five minutes before it kicks in.
Relationships: Garth/Roy Harper
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	My Thoughts, I Confess, Verge On Dirty

**Author's Note:**

> Just a couple notes: 
> 
> 1\. it's established that Roy and Garth have fooled around before   
> 2\. this is entirely consensual, clear state of mind and everything 
> 
> Title from "Come On Eileen" by Dexy's Midnight Runners! 
> 
> As always, do not interact if you ship Batcest.

Fuck Gotham, fuck the Bats, and _definitely_ fuck Poison Ivy and whatever weird shit she's boobytrapping her greenhouses with now. Roy regrets answering the comm almost immediately, but it's Robin, it's _Damian_ , and Roy's not exactly one to ignore a request for backup. 

"What for?" He asks when he drops onto the rooftop beside Damian, who harrumphs and glowers at him over crossed arms. 

"I didn't expect you to drop by," Damian says, then drops the irritated façade to fist bump the hand Roy holds out. 

"I was in the area," he says. Gotham is closer to Manhattan than Star City, and he's picking up loose leads in Manhattan during the day, so at night...he helps out in Gotham. "What's up?" 

"We need ingredients from there." Damian points to a greenhouse below them - the Gotham botanical gardens, when Roy bothers to read the sign. "Poison Ivy has traps at the entrance." 

"Isn't it open during the day?" Roy replies, squinting at the opening times. Damian huffs. 

"We need materials from the poisonous exhibits," he says. "Those are locked behind glass to visitors." 

"Ah." Couldn't be easy, with the Bats. 

Getting in is easy enough. Damian points out the trip lines and the wires and the convenient plant bulbs laying around, ready to be stepped on, and Roy disables the ones he can with ease, following Damian into the belly of the gardens. True to his word, there's a poison exhibit smack dab in a glass building in the middle, the windows huge and clear to see the plants inside. They're all bright, appealing colours and curling tendrils, gripping at wooden supports staked into their soil. 

Damian unfolds some sort of silvery suit from his pocket, and gestures to Roy to stay outside. Then he dons...whatever the streamlined Hazmat suit is, and disappears inside with a crinkle of footsteps. 

It's boring while he waits, keeping one eye on the innocent-looking vines curling around the rafters and the other on Damian inside the exhibit, carefully extricating... _something_ from a root with a hefty looking syringe. He bags it, tucks it away, and steps outside to dispose of the Hazmat suit, rolling it up inside-out and stowing it in a plastic pouch. 

"That dangerous, huh?" Roy asks, nodding to the Hazmat pouch. Damian shakes his head and stashes both syringe and suit in his belt somewhere. 

"The suit was merely a precaution in case the plants attacked. Since they didn't, my suit should technically be completely safe." 

"But better safe than sorry," Roy finishes, glancing up at the rafters once more before following Damian out of the thick greenery. 

"Something like that," Damian replies with the flash of a smile. 

"So what's the syringe stuff for?" 

"An antidote. Ivy seems to have some particularly potent drugs on the market right now." 

"Drugs?" 

Damian hesitates. 

"We sense that she is not...voluntarily making the batches," he says, and Roy _ah_ s in silent understanding. 

"But they are still dangerous," Damian continues. "The police have found traces of a hallucinatory component in the local...marijuana circles." 

"It's hitting teenagers." 

Damian nods, ducking underneath a branch to wind around a trip wire. Roy steps carefully around the trunk. 

"Precisely. And I know Ivy has her way of doing things, but she never targets civilians." 

"I'm reading you," Roy says. "You need any help with it?" 

"No." Damian pauses to glance at him just before the reach the door, a smile quirking up the corner of his mouth. "But thank you for coming to my aid, Harper." 

"Hey, I didn't do much," Roy replies, returning his grin. "Just followed your lead." 

"Still. It's always better with someone to watch your back." 

"Aw, I like you, too," Roy jokes, imitating Dick, and Damian snorts a quiet laugh before tip-toeing through the door - 

Roy sees it moments before it happens. The bulb is a vibrant, ripe green, and the vine it connects to leads up to the archway of flowers, and it's right in Damian's path. 

Damian doesn't step on it, is the thing. Roy watches a _bullet_ tear through it, and hears the echo of laughter, and a sudden damp rush of vapour _whooshes_ down from the archway, a mist of green - 

Without thinking, Roy lunges to shove Damian forward through the arch, away from the mist, and lands hard on his side, right underneath the flowers spraying _whatever_ it is into the air. It drifts down and around him, and he coughs at the damp. Damian whirls around to him, eyes wide under the mask. Another bullet ricochets by his ankle. Roy shoos him away and rolls onto his front to push himself onto his knees while Damian spins around with a vicious snarl and dispatches the shooters with shurikens. 

Roy coughs again, on his hands and knees underneath the archway. It's no use, he's already been throughly drenched in the stuff, but better him than Damian. And when the familiar smell of it stings the back of his throat, he's abruptly _really_ glad he took the hit. 

"Harper!" 

"I'm okay," he calls out, climbing to his feet and staggering out of the archway and into the open air of the outdoors. Damian hovers beside him, but not too close. Smart. 

"Harper, which one was it? I have antidotes to the lethal ones on me - " 

Roy shakes his head with a grimace. Detaches a small device from his belt that Dick gave to him months ago, when he started hanging out around Gotham rogues more, and presses the sensor to his skin. Tilts the screen when it comes up with a blue light, pulses once, twice. 

No, it's not one of the lethal ones. 

"I'm fine," he repeats, stowing the device. Damian glares at his hand, as if he wants to snatch the device, but he knows better than to touch a potentially contaminated Roy. 

"Let me take you back," Damian insists, but Roy shakes his head. He's familiar with this toxin. He's inhaled it before. It's designed to be a massive inconvenience, but it won't hurt him. 

And he's got about five minutes before it kicks in. 

He makes his goodbyes quick and his exit quicker, retreating to the cool safety of the rooftops while he maps out his options. There's not many, and the itch is already settling in the back of his skull as he makes his way towards city limits. The cave would have an antidote, and they'd lend him a room in the manor, and he'd be ripped to shit over it the next day - 

He stumbles when the itch digs into a wave, and - and _fuck_ going to the Bats for an antidote, fuck, he can't face them like this, not when the next subtle wave has him pausing to catch his breath. It's stupid. It's _so_ stupid, but he's _not_ facing the Bats like this - it's not like it'll _hurt_ him, anyway; he can ride it out himself. Which he can do because it's one of the pheromone toxins. It's one of the stupid fucking _pheromone_ toxins. Not a serious one, thank fuck, but embarrassing as all get out when it comes to heightening his physical arousal. It's something he can solve himself, with a few sessions of his right hand, and it'll probably be flushed out of his system by morning. 

Problem is, he just needs to get somewhere _private_ , and he doesn't live in Gotham. 

Manhattan's closest. And the Titans floor of the Tower is hardly used, anyway, so the chances of someone being there are close to zero, and solitude is _exactly_ what Roy needs right now, fuck. 

He starts towards the train station. 

\-- 

He gets to the Tower with no interruption. Uses the sneaky side door and takes the lift all the way up to the halfway abandoned Titans floor, and stumbles down the hallway with that pulsing, grating _want_ inside him. Just a little more, just a couple fingerprints - he wipes the sweat from them and presses them to the reader again, swallows thickly at the next pulse of arousal that shivers through him. 

The door unlocks with a quiet _click_. Roy hurries into the floor and shuts it behind him, leaning against the wood for a moment while he catches his breath. He drops his gear duffel to the ground. He just needs to make it to his room, just down one of the hallways. Just to his room. Forty steps, max. 

He closes his eyes and tips his head back against the door, counting his breaths in...and out, in...and out, as a flash of heat spikes through him. It's more distracting than he ever expects, being this _persistently_ horny for this _long_. He knows it'll calm slightly when he actually indulges it, but he's not exactly one to just whip it out in the living room - 

"Roy?" 

Heat of a very different, much more embarrassed kind prickles over Roy's face and neck, and he groans a little at his misfortune. 

"Hey," he gets out through gritted teeth, and hears footsteps coming towards him, and no, no, he does _not_ need anyone close to him right now - 

"Are you okay?" 

"I - I'm fine, Garth," he says, and opens his eyes, which was a mistake, because then all he's looking at is _Garth_ , only a few steps from him, concern and confusion mingling in his eyes. 

Garth, who is, apparently, inconveniently, staying in the Tower tonight. 

Bizarrely, Roy almost wishes the toxin _had_ fucked with his mind, just so he'd have an excuse for the filthy images that rise just at the _sight_ of Garth, pulled from years of shower fantasies and locker room fumbles. 

But as it is, he's as clear-minded as he could fucking get, and there's no excuse for the way he tries to push off the wall and stumbles instead. Before he can catch his footing, Garth catches _him_ , his arms suddenly around Roy's chest and pushing him gently up against the door again. Roy tries to suppress his shiver, but Garth notices and steadies him anyway, gently bending a knee to pin one of Roy's to the door, and - 

and Roy's head _spins_ with arousal and his legs slip apart and Garth's knee slips forward to knock against the door and his thigh ends up pressed between Roy's legs and oh god it feels so good he might just come on the fucking spot. He doesn't realised he's rolled his hips down until the sensation rocks through him, and Garth's - Garth's _apologising_ , for some reason, and his leg pulls away. 

Roy grabs his wrist and forces his eyes open - when had he closed them? - to look at him. 

"Please," he murmurs. Pathetically, like he always does. "Please, just - " 

Garth blushes dark but does move his leg back in, slotting up between Roy's thighs perfectly, and Roy shudders at the new pressure, clutching at Garth's arms, now, as a solid wall of heat presses up against his dick and _grinds_. Fuck, it's _good_ , it's better than anything he could have done to himself, and a whine claws its way out of his throat, all his nerves endings lit up like the fourth of fucking July, elated just to get some _relief_ , god - 

He rolls his hips down again and oh god he really _is_ about to come on the spot, and he genuinely can't _help_ it when the next push of Garth's leg makes him groan and grip harder at his arms and rock down harder, more insistent. 

His whimper is completely undignified and he doesn't even _care_ , pleading and asking all at once. He doesn't really have a choice when Garth hesitates, presses his leg back in, presses _up_ , and Roy _does_ come, his noise high-pitched and startled and shuddering with the rest of him against the door for a few brief, ecstatic seconds. 

It doesn't soothe the fiery pit in his stomach much. He's not quite as on-edge, but it doesn't abate. In front of him, Garth - oh shit, _Garth_. 

Roy rips his hands from where they'd settled on Garth's arms to press back against the cool wood, try and calm some of the insistent heat inside him. Fuck, he didn't actually _mean_ to - 

"Fuck, sorry, I'm sorry," he babbles, pressing a hand to his eyes. "Shit, I didn't - I didn't _mean_ to." 

"It's okay," Garth says, but Roy's already mired in regret. 

"No, it's _not_ ," he groans. Bile crawls up his throat. "I took - _advantage_ of you - " 

"Shut up," Garth murmurs gently, curling his fingers around Roy's biceps. "Roy. You didn't do anything bad." 

"I'm sorry," Roy mumbles again. "I'm really sorry." 

"Don't be." Garth's thumb strokes over his arm in a distracting sweep. Roy is only a little ashamed of the tingle of arousal the touch sends through him. "I knew what was happening, Roy. I wanted to - y'know. It's nothing we haven't done before." 

Roy's cheeks burn all over again at the mention of what they've just done. But Garth isn't in the habit of lying, and he's got a point, so Roy believes him. 

"I'm more worried about _you_ ," Garth continues. There's a laugh hidden in his voice when he speaks next. "But not too worried, since clearly you're clear-minded enough to feel that guilty." 

Roy laughs despite himself, tips his head back against the door. 

"Ivy," he answers. "I'm fine, it's just - physical. The type 4." Garth's familiar with the categorisation, he knows, taught to all of them by Dick, and then Batman, when they all turned eighteen and he had a mini crisis about his son and his friends potentially having sex. 

Roy drops his hand and cracks an eye open. Garth's cheeks are still flushed, and his breathing is noticeably heavier. Despite the orgasm, Roy's still desperately hard, although for once he's glad Garth won't be able to feel that. If anything, the feeling in his gut _thickens_ , doesn't lessen, pools into something closer to desperation. He's only a little afraid of his heart beating out of his chest, but that's nothing to do with the toxin. 

"I need to - go, uh. To my room," Roy says eloquently. Garth's throat clicks when he swallows, uncharacteristically nervous. 

"Do you want a hand?" He asks, and Roy almost crumbles at the question. 

"I - Garth, _shit_ ," he breathes. His immediate response is to not shoot himself in the foot. Then, because he's selfish and apparently doesn't care about the gun, "You sure?" 

Garth's nose twitches and his eyes flick down Roy's body, quick and fast, and then he nods. Licks his lips, and Roy's dick _throbs_ at the sight. 

"I'm sure," he murmurs, and when his voice drop into that rougher pitch? It's doing all sorts of shit to Roy's frazzled, toxined nerves, and he hasn't even been _touched_ yet, Garth's thigh notwithstanding. Despite that, he selfishly grinds down against his leg once more, shuddering at the sensation. Garth's fingers dig into his arms just that bit tighter. 

"C'mon," Garth adds, and tugs Roy away from the door. 

Roy loses his armour on the way, grasping desperately at Garth's waist, at his hips, as Garth manoeuvres them through the living room and down the hallway. Roy's knees buckle at some point and he ends up against the wall, dragging Garth in by his hair to moan breathlessly into his neck while Garth slips a hand between them and jacks him off over his clothes. It burns like a fever through Roy, indescribably hot and pulsing and _desperate_. He comes easily like that, more easily than he should, really, given the thick barrier and the fact he's on round _two_ , but this toxin doesn't seem to be fucking around - _ha_. Garth groans softly against his jaw and pins Roy right there to the wall to keep jacking him off, right until his legs feel weak. 

"Garth - _fuck_ \- need to move," Roy mumbles, shudders as he grips the back of Garth's neck. "My _legs_ \- oh god please keep doing _that_." 

The other option is Garth lifting him up off the floor to press him against the wall - definitely _can_ , with his effortless strength, and it's something Roy thinks about a lot when he's feeling particularly slutty and horny. Something he's gotten off to probably an obscene amount of times, thinking about Garth's fingers digging hot brands into the backs of his thighs, his ass, the flex of his forearms - 

"Fuck, _move_ ," Roy hisses, propelling them into movement despite the sore, heady temptation to stay. He almost whines when Garth's fingers slip away from him, but it's tempered by Garth fumbling them down to Roy's bedroom door, his hands wandering and insistent on Roy's overheated skin. 

Garth topples onto him on the bed as well, shoving Roy's jeans open to work his fingers in and _yeah_ , and curl them up against Roy's cock fucking _perfectly_ , exactly the quick-and-dirty handjob Roy's looking for. He groans in the back of his throat and grips at Garth's sides, at his back, rocking up in fitful waves for it, pleasantly surprised at the way Garth jacks him off, fast and sure and hard enough to keep Roy's hips pinned to the bed. He doesn't know how Garth managed to _guess_ how he likes it - although a small voice in the back of his head tells him maybe Garth likes the coming-on-strong approach too, maybe he doesn't use a light touch on himself - and Roy has to deliberately steer his thoughts away from Garth's dick to focus on his own, definitely slick and probably sweaty underneath Garth's clever fingertips. 

"Right there, yeah - _yeah_ ," Roy groans, hooking an arm around Garth's neck and bucking up into his hand. Garth buries his head in Roy's neck, mouths over his pulsepoint, does a lot of the tame kissing shit that Roy usually likes but physically can't even tune into right now, they're so slight compared to gnawing _desire_ in his gut, the urge to come almost overpowering. 

Garth's hand isn't tame though, far from it, and he's working Roy right up into another tense orgasm just as easily as he would channel a current, drags his fingertips up the underside of his cock and rubs over the head and Roy wonders briefly if they could flush out the toxin just by making him come enough times. He wants to try, certainly, wants to try anything Garth'll let him - 

" _Fuck_ , I'm close, 'm gonna - _shit_ \- " It's no less strong this time, tearing through him like a hot knife down his spine, and the only consequence is the choked-off moan he makes into Garth's hair and the stutter of his hips against Garth's fingers. He's so _hot_ , fuck, he's burning up underneath his clothes, sweating at his hairline and the backs of his knees and anywhere else bunched close together he's so fucking _hot_ \- 

He huffs and kicks the jeans off immediately, too hot and too sweaty and too _annoyed_ at the barrier to care much about where they go - the underwear is no ceremony either, although Garth helps with those, and the brush of his knuckles to Roy's hips shouldn't be as erotic as it is. Even so, when Roy lays back and tugs Garth onto him, Garth hesitates before getting between his legs. The kiss is brief, mostly due to Roy being impatient and horny and wound up beyond fucking belief, so Garth makes quick work of any semblance of foreplay, lips on his neck and on his collarbone and then fingers on his hip, sliding down with the rest of Garth's body, and Roy lights up like a fucking _firework_ , gasping at the first touch of bare fingertips on his cock. 

"Where can I touch?" Garth asks, _pausing_ his fingers for some reason, and Roy rubs up against them shamelessly, digging his head into the pillow. 

"Anywhere, fuck, anywhere, I don't mind _anywhere_ ," Roy pants. Garth hovers on his elbows for another moment. 

"Can I use my mouth?" He asks, and Roy _whimpers_ at the thought. At the _tease_ , Garth's mouth so temptingly, dizzyingly close to his fingers, to where Roy's hard and slick and _desperate_ for any touch. 

"I haven't showered," he manages instead, because he's not exactly cleaned up for company - 

Garth shrugs, a lazy roll of one shoulder. "I've done worse." 

Roy doesn't have time to ask _like what_ before Garth replaces his fingers with his mouth, licking a bold stripe up his cock. _God_. _Fuck_. It feels better than Roy has words for, and Garth works his fingers in clever time between swipes of his tongue, pressing and grinding and rubbing and _circling_ oh god _circling_ , driving Roy nearly fucking crazy with the overwhelming sensation, heightened to all fuck by the toxin, and it's not long before he gives up on the sheets and cards a hand through Garth's hair instead, holding it out of his eyes as Garth - shifts? 

When fingers land on Roy's hand, he doesn't realise what Garth's doing, but then Garth _pushes_ , on Roy's hand and his own head, encouraging Roy to - to - 

"Jesus _fucking_ Christ," he pants, and pushes Garth's head down to fuck up into his mouth. It takes him thirty seconds to come after that move, grinding selfishly against Garth's tongue, lips, _mouth_ as it rattles through him. 

When Garth lifts his head, chin slick and smiling, Roy thinks he could come again from the sight, but settles on a pathetic moan instead, twitching his hips up into the slight touch of Garth's fingers, still running lazily over him. 

"Need a minute?" Garth asks, as if the rolls of Roy's hips aren't answer enough. Roy doesn't need a minute on a normal day, and this is _far_ from a normal day. 

"No, god no," he says. "Keep going, fuck." He almost wants to be embarrassed at how needy he is, but he can't help it, doesn't _want_ to help it, wants anything and everything Garth'll give him if it means he stays in bed with him. If it means - 

" _Oh_ god, _Garth_ ," Roy moans, tipping his head back against the pillows as Garth _sucks_ again, a perfectly dizzying sensation that sends heat flooding to all corners of Roy's body. 

Garth rumbles out a groan against him, low and dirty; Roy fists his hair and fucks selfishly up into his mouth, flinging his other arm up to bite into his wrist, try and muffle the embarrassing noise that almost escapes him. He whines into the bone, eyes squeezing shut as Garth works him up anew, heightened by the toxin. Fuck, he's almost glad he ran into someone he's already fooled around with, at least, makes this a _lot_ less weirder even if it's been a few months - 

"Wanna hear you," Garth says. His stubble drags against Roy's thigh when he kisses it, his mouth still damp with spit and come. Roy whimpers and opens his eyes, drops his hand, to look down at Garth, at the picture he makes framed by Roy's legs, at the flush in his cheeks when he meets Roy's eyes. He cups his thigh almost lovingly, his thumb digging into the curve of muscle and dimpling the skin Garth kisses next, open-mouthed and hot. His breath coasts pleasantly across it, pricking up Roy's nerves like fireworks all over again. 

Everything feels so _sensitive_ now, from Garth's shoulders pinning his thighs open to the spit-slick slant of his mouth, a tempting shade of pink that Roy has the sudden, desperate urge to sink his teeth into. His cock twitches, neglected, embarrassingly, and Garth runs his thumb in a soothing sweep up the length. 

"Please," Roy pants, rocking his hips up to try and encourage Garth back. "Garth, your _mouth_ \- " 

"Make me." Garth's eyes glitter with mischief even as his cheeks flame. Roy starts to bite his lip to silence himself, then remembers Garth's request, and whimpers aloud. It takes a second for his muscles to obey his brain, but when they do, pulling Garth's head back between his legs, Garth curses, sealing his lips around Roy's dick like he never left. 

Roy doesn't know whether it's a testament to the toxin or to Garth's skill when he starts trembling again, tugging at Garth's hair in a clumsy rhythm to fuck into his mouth with fervour, moaning nonsensically as heat builds and _builds_ and crests somewhere in his stomach to shudder outwards in waves. He whines through this orgasm, thighs twitching against Garth's head as he comes somewhere on his tongue, against his lips - Garth hums against him, sends a fresh wave of blistering arousal tearing down his spine. 

Garth keeps going this time, not even pausing to ask, and Roy shuts his eyes against the odd, sharp combination of delayed sensitivity and new pleasure, threatening to raze the nerves straight from his skin. Fuck, fuck, fuck, he can't - it stings, suddenly, too sharp where Garth's tongue dances up the underside, where he flicks against the head and makes Roy almost cry out with how _sensitive_ it is. It's not _fair_ , he thinks, it's _so_ not fair, but he pulls Garth's head up anyway, struggling to catch his breath. He wants to sob at the loss. 

"Fuck, _fuck_ , 'm sensitive," he complains. 

"We can take a break," Garth offers, murmured between soothing kisses to Roy's hips, his thighs, anywhere still trembling from how abruptly nice turned into near-painful. 

"I don't _want_ to," Roy says, _god_ , he doesn't. The fake heat of the toxin still pounds through every thud of his heartbeat, although slightly weaker than before, and the urge to come sits like a heavy rock in his gut, like condensing magma. He _wants_ , he wants it so _badly_. 

"What do you need?" Garth rumbles, calm and soothing despite the flames licking up Roy's heels. 

"I need - " he doesn't know _what_ he needs, snaps his other hand over in frustration to try and work out where exactly they went wrong on the sensitivity - must be toxin-induced, because he's usually good to come with just blowjobs, but this arousal claws deep inside him, something akin to primal, he thinks, certainly feels like it with how it twists in deep and drags out all his filthiest desires. 

His fingers don't elicit anything sharp, anything painful, when they rub over his cock - _Jesus_ , it's wet down here, completely soaked in Garth's spit, and Roy can't do much more than lift his head to watch as he gently strokes himself, trying to pinpoint what's good and what's not. Garth watches intently, glued to Roy's fingers, rolling his lower lip through his teeth with a low groan when Roy bucks into his own touch. But it's not enough, it's not going to get him off nearly as fast, and he's so _impatient_. 

With a grunt, he slides his fingers lower, to where Garth hasn't strayed yet, and it's stupid slick down here as well, with spit and come, and even more so when he dips his fingers inside himself, just up to the first knuckle. 

" _Fuck_ ," Garth whispers. His fingers tighten on Roy's thighs, and down the long line of his back, Roy catches his hips rolling forward against the sheets. God, that's almost too much. Roy eases in one finger, slow, as much as he easily can from his angle - which isn't much, but it still sends a thrill up his spine, heat blooming over his skin all over again, like a matchstick into embers. He tries a minuscule slide, and his breath hitches harshly, knees weak at the sensation. 

Yeah, he's definitely found the next thing his stupid libido wants. 

"There," he says. His voice sounds shaky even to his own ears. "There, I want - " he cuts off with a sharp inhale when Garth's fingers land where his one is, cautious. Garth's eyes seem almost neon when he meets Roy's gaze, and just the touch of his fingertip sends a pulse of hot, thick heat through Roy. Roy withdraws his finger and hesitates before taking his hand away. Garth's eyes drop to it. 

Roy doesn't know what possesses him to do what he does next. But he pushes his slick fingertips up against Garth's mouth, and Garth parts his lips without question, his tongue pressing up firm against Roy's knuckles as he sucks them clean, the eye contact burning through Roy like lava. Without his brain approving the move, he hooks his fingers behind Garth's teeth, pushes more into his mouth just to _feel_ it. Spit pools around his fingertips, wells at the corners of Garth's mouth, and his gaze drops to half-lidded, his throat working on a swallow that pulls at Roy's fingers with a sensation he can feel in his dick. 

Roy reluctantly pulls his fingers out of Garth's mouth, although his brain is already committing every single detail to memory, from the string of spit that delicately stretches from Garth's lower lip to his finger before it snaps, to the way Garth's eyes close and then open again with a small shudder, something heated and promising in their depths. 

"How much?" Garth asks, pressing his fingertips more insistently against Roy to remind him what they were talking about. Or, well, what he's practically begging for. 

"Anything," Roy breathes, wiping his fingers off on his cock just to see Garth track the movement. " _Anything_ , fuck, fingers, mouth, _anything_." He rolls his hips up in encouragement. The fire licking under his skin feels like it's reached a fever pitch, making him irresponsible, bold, startlingly slutty even to himself at how desperately he wants Garth's touch - 

"Fuck," Garth murmurs again, sucks in a breath and shifts on his elbows to settle between Roy's thighs once more. "Yeah, I can - I can do that. Do you want lube?" 

Roy barks out a shaky laugh. He's far from needing lube today, not with how many orgasms Garth's coaxed out of him already, not with his spit dripping down past Roy's hole to drip cold over his asshole, and _definitely_ not with the physical reaction that Garth sparks in his dick. 

"Not now," he pants. He loosens his hold on Garth's hair to stroke it back from his face, gathering it all up in a neat fist at the back of his head. He doesn't know what makes him particularly bold when he next speaks, but whatever it is has his mouth dipping into a smirk at the same time. "I think your tongue can do the job." 

He's not expecting the shiver that runs through Garth, and he's definitely not expecting the _moan_ , muffled poorly against the crook of hip and thigh. Garth's hips shove down harder against the sheets, and Roy's just working up the courage to ask to get him back when Garth kisses his cock and starts rubbing his fingers in tiny, enticing circles. 

Roy shudders and props himself up on his elbow. It feels _good_ , a pleasant buzz against his desperate nerves, and even better when Garth starts easing one in, still pressing those wet, messy kisses to the side of his dick as he does so, slow and inexorable. He glances up at Roy, who nods eagerly, digging teeth into his lower lip at the flare of heat deep in his stomach, sparked by the twitch of Garth's finger inside him. He can feel his cheeks burning anew, despite the all-consuming heat devouring every inch of his skin, still so fucking _hot_ , purely temperature-wise, and knocked up a couple more degrees when Garth starts fingering him slowly, watching him carefully. 

As _if_ Roy's going to back out of this. He tips his head back with a quiet moan, rocking up against Garth's hand while he steadily works up a pace, thrusts in all the way to the knuckle and makes Roy shiver head-to-toe, ripped out of him like an exorcism. Roy almost forgets about anything else, caught up in the surprisingly strong sensations, that when something wet and hot touches next to Garth's finger, he almost jumps out of his skin. Melts in a moan a moment later, when Garth licks at his hole, pulls him open filthy to dig his tongue in just a half-inch - 

"Oh, _oh_ , that's good, that's - _Garth_ ," Roy babbles, whines when Garth starts edging in a second finger, when he spits on them to fuck his spit into Roy, determined and insistent. Roy shudders when both fingers hit home, jerks when Garth's tongue reintroduces itself into the mix, hot and wet and _pointed_ and hitting all the nerves Roy needs, panting hard enough to make his chest hurt. 

Garth seems to sense his impatience, pushes Roy's thighs open wider to get his mouth _closer_. He growls, and the vibration makes Roy tense up all over, a surge of arousal almost overwhelming him - he whines, loud and unashamed, and Garth fingers him with rocks of his hand, pulling out only half a knuckle before pushing back in. Somehow, he's guessed exactly how Roy likes it, and Roy isn't complaining in the slightest, fisting Garth's hair tighter as he whimpers, rutting up against Garth's hand, Garth's mouth, Garth's _tongue_. 

Heat crawls up Roy's throat, shivers all the way down his legs, makes him tense and groan and shake, all over - the slick slide of Garth's fingers sounds _obscene_ , fanning the flame in Roy's gut, and he squirms against the bed when Garth _spreads_ his fingers inside him, _fuck_ , entirely filthy. It's dizzyingly hot, searing on his frazzled nerves, a pathetic moan pushed out of him every time Garth spreads his fingers, as if _stretching_ Roy - 

" _Please_ ," Roy sobs, hips snapping up and pushed right back down by Garth's free hand, maddeningly close and yet so fucking far from what he wants, what he _needs_ , and he's never come untouched before. It's driving him out of his mind, sorely desperately and completely unable to rub up against anything except the brush of Garth's nose and he wants to _come_ god he wants to come - each drag of Garth's fingers inside him sends a new blaze through him, keying up all his stupid sensitive nerves. 

Garth moans shakily against him and nudges his fingers apart again, and this time his tongue fills in the space, feels so much fucking bigger than it is, and Roy finds himself breathless all over again, face screwed up as he uselessly chases the sensation. Then Garth crooks his fingers up, rubs once, shifts, rubs _again_ , and Roy coughs out a sob, his toes curling in the sheets as Garth presses insistent over his sweet spot. Roy can _feel_ himself clench around Garth's fingers, his tongue, moans high and needy while Garth fucks him. 

_God_ , he wants Garth to fuck him, suddenly aches for it, wants it so viscerally spit floods his mouth. His scattered mind tries to pull together the pieces while Garth fucks all sense out of him, snatching together thoughts of a fucking shower, for one, and the lube in the bedside table - oh _god_ Garth's fingers are fucking magic, pushing noises out of him with just a touch - he doesn't want to give this up just so Garth can prep his ass, fuck. Decides Garth could do this exact same magic shit at the same time, get both his hands inside Roy _somehow_ \- the thought makes Roy's knees weak all the way through, thinking about Garth slicking up his cock and pushing in - 

Roy jerks violently, sucks in a breath so sharp it hurts, it _hurts_ , burns in his throat and his lungs and turns him inside out on the exhale and he doesn't know when his thighs started shaking or when he started babbling out noise, high-pitched and decidedly needy, indecipherable over the rush of blood in his ears. He's so _close_ , shit, so so close and so so hot and Garth's panting heavily where he's fucking him, with his nose crushed up against Roy's cock and his tongue pushing between his fingers, solid and hot and wet and it's so _good_ and not _enough_ all at the same time. 

"Touch me," Roy gasps, can barely bite out the words through his panting, keyed up and close _so close_ and he can't quite _get_ there - "please, _please_ , Garth, I can't - I need you to - " 

Garth's hand snaps over lightning-quick to rest above his mouth, his thumb shoving down to rub against Roy's dick in a wet circle that makes him groan and fist Garth's hair. 

"Please, please, please," he whines, doesn't hear anything else he says over the abrupt spike of _ohshit_ that stabs through him. He shakes hard enough he's vaguely worried he'll dislodge Garth, but he can't spare it another thought when the spike broadens and rises, _builds_ , quaking all through him until Garth's thumb slips over his cock in one particularly good slide and he comes with a sharp cry, collapsing onto his back as fucking _waves_ crash through him, shuddering and rolling and burning hot. 

He isn't aware of how tightly he's holding Garth's hair, feels numb where Garth's tongue still fucks inside him, where his fingers rub up against his sweet spot until Roy has to blink away tears, so _so_ much and so overwhelming he can't quite catch his breath right. He doesn't ask Garth to stop, though, doesn't _want_ to, selfish and needy and partially drugged to just _crave_. It's so much better than his own hand, definitely makes him _noisier_ , gasping and moaning as he shudders through it, thighs clamped either side of Garth's head. 

The waves die down eventually, into ripples, into drops, and his shaking subsides enough to let him figure out where all his body parts are. Garth still rocks his fingers in and out of him, careful and slow, but his tongue is gone, head tilted to look up at Roy as he brushes gently over the sensitive head of his dick. Roy loosens his grip in his hair, turns to pant up at the ceiling. For once, he doesn't feel feverish. The overwhelming heat has dialled down to a simmer, although he doesn't know how long it'll last. 

"You're really good at that," he says on an exhale, turning back to Garth. Garth grins and pointedly thrusts his fingers in. 

"At this?" He asks. Roy shivers at the muted sensation and bites back a hysterical laugh. 

"At all of it," he says. He lets his legs fall open either side of Garth, fatigue threading through his slowly relaxing muscles. "I feel like I can actually _think_ now." 

Garth presses on his dick, a tease. "And? Do you think you wanna stop?" 

"I think I _could_ ," Roy admits. "And I think I don't wanna." 

Garth's teeth dig into his lower lip. Roy wants to soothe away the indent they leave with his tongue. 

"I want to make you come again," Garth murmurs, low and heated. He arches an eyebrow. "If you're up for it?" 

"Fuck, you can do anything you'd like," Roy says, dropping his head back to the bed. 

"Is this still good?" Garth shifts his fingers, as if Roy could forget Garth's currently buried in him up to the knuckles. Or that he was fantasising desperately about getting fucked two seconds from coming. 

"It's great," Roy sighs happily. Garth hums in amused acknowledgement and runs a hand up his thigh in warm, soothing strokes while he touches him, seemingly content to draw out all of Roy's residual shivering from what feels like the best orgasm of his fucking _life_. 

Garth's mouth returns, too, blissfully soft on Roy's dick when his tongue curls around it to suck - gentle, just like his fingers, focusing on all the spots that make Roy's breath catch in his throat. He feels completely fucked out, happily exhausted even though there's a muted swell of arousal threatening to overtake him again. Hopefully he's sweated out most of the fever, and hopefully sated enough of his hindbrain that the second wave won't kick in _too_ powerfully. 

Garth coaxes that swell into more of a rise, tightening up Roy's sore legs like a fine-tune, but he doesn't really mind the ache. He savours it as Garth's tongue runs luxuriously up his cock, velvety warm and impossibly wet, but Roy's always liked it a little sloppy, and Garth's fingertips nudging against his sweet spot don't help much with that. Although right now he appreciates the drag of them rather than the focused rub, shakes with a quiet groan when Garth pushes his tongue hard against the base of his dick and twists his fingers. 

Roy flattens his palm against the back of Garth's head to give his scalp a break, although his fingers twitch whenever Garth does something particularly nice. Garth bobs easily with the gentle roll of his hips, humming intermittently to make Roy pant harder, huffing through his nose when he digs his head back against the pillow. 

"Mm, _Garth_ ," he murmurs, lets his breath hitch freely when Garth hollows his cheeks and sucks. "Close." 

Cool air rushes over Roy's cock when Garth pulls off. 

"I know," he says in a comforting rumble. Roy doesn't have time to miss his mouth before it's back, working in sweet tandem with his fingers. Near his feet, he can feel where Garth's hips roll steadily against the bed, dipping the mattress underneath Roy's soles with every slight thrust. It's a thrill to know _he's_ the cause of that, and he's sort of wondering if this time he'll be able to get actually _into_ Garth's pants. Their usual messy grinding is good enough in the gym lockers, but Roy wants _more_. 

He's sort of idly thinking about Garth's dick when the heat pooling in his stomach solidifies into a tangible threat, and he doesn't realise his rocking until Garth moans around him, squeezes his thigh, and rolls with it. It's more than enough to push him over the teetering edge, _oh_. Roy makes a choked-off noise in the back of his throat when he comes, almost by surprise, washing over him and fizzling out moments later, tinged with the ghost of sensitivity. 

His toes uncurl slowly against the sheets, the sensitivity growing more pronounced with each lick of Garth's tongue, like he's rubbing the nerves the wrong way, and as much as Roy wants his mouth, he has to pull him off when he starts squirming under it. Garth pops off cleanly and pulls his fingers out with the same care, brushing the backs of his knuckles against Roy's softening dick almost _fondly_. 

Roy laughs and twists his hips away from the touch, lifting his head to shoot Garth a look - Garth meets it with a grin, and then sucks his fingers clean. Roy's stomach does an interesting little flip-flop. 

"How're you feeling?" Garth asks, smoothing his hands up Roy's thighs to lay them flat on the bed. He pushes himself up a moment later, crawling up over Roy to settle above him. 

"Lot better," Roy murmurs, glancing down at Garth's lips. A touch swollen, from all the work they've done, and his hair falls past Roy's loose hold in it to frame his cheek. 

Roy tugs him down. Garth pauses before their lips can touch, breath puffing out shaky across Roy's skin. 

"Roy, my mouth tastes - " 

"God, do you think I _care_ ," Roy groans, and surges up to kiss him, messy and broken by his panting and somehow the best kiss he's ever gotten from Garth. Locker room urgency just doesn't feel the same. Roy groans again, sinks his teeth into Garth's lower lip and runs his hand up his sides with renewed fervour, and Garth grunts into his mouth, shivering finely under his palms. 

"Wanna touch you," Roy mumbles, hooking a leg around Garth's thigh and scrabbling at his waistband. Garth lifts his hips to let Roy push down his sweats, swearing incoherently against his lips. 

" _Roy_ ," he pants, gasps when Roy shoves the sweats down over his ass and pulls him down with his leg to allow Garth to grind up against his abdomen. The drag of his underwear is rough where it touches Roy's exposed skin, his shirt rucked up by Garth's movements. 

Roy makes quick work of the briefs too, squeezing once over the fabric before pushing the elastic down to snap across Garth's thighs, spread wide and pushing Roy's legs apart filthy. Roy welcomes it, catches Garth's mouth in another desperate kiss as he wraps a hand around Garth's cock. Garth moans unabashedly, crashing onto his elbows. 

"Jesus," Roy breathes, and fists him just a little faster, but Garth's so _dry_ it gets uncomfortable quick. He has enough brain coordination to fix that, and urges Garth's hips down just a little more to - _yeah_ , that. 

"Oh _god_ ," Garth hisses, hips stuttering when they next grind against Roy's dick. Yeah, good idea, because Garth looks like he's two seconds away from coming and his leftover spit makes it easy for Roy to jack him off, quick and hard and _nothing_ like all their other times. 

It's a lot messier this way, with Roy's knuckles brushing against himself every time he strokes Garth, but there's something about the frantic way Garth fucks against him that sends a hot shiver down his spine. It's definitely the most unwound he's ever seen Garth, and coincidentally, perhaps the hottest he's ever seen him, and he's been seeing Garth step out of pools Baywatch-style since he was sixteen and just noticing the curves of Garth's shoulders. 

"'M gonna come, 'm gonna come, Roy, _oh_ ," Garth mutters, burying his face in Roy's neck as he shudders. 

"You're so _hot_ ," Roy mumbles into his hair, sliding one hand around to grab Garth's ass while he tosses in a couple twists of his wrists. Garth's dick presses hot against him, and god, it would be so _easy_ to change the angle, to let Garth fuck him right into the mattress with all the super strength he keeps carefully hidden away. Garth's already _prepped_ him, however unintentionally; Roy doesn't use his front hole often, not when most of his encounters are fleeting, but he'd definitely let Garth take his fucking pick. 

He's sort of mildly considering it when Garth's thrusts turn ragged, artlessly chasing the circle of Roy's fingers and rubbing up against him in arrhythmically. It knocks all the thoughts out of Roy's head, focusing solely on the solid heat above him, against him, panting hard into the crook of his neck and shoulder like he's about to run out of air. 

"Fuck, _Roy_ ," Garth moans, and slams a hand against the sheets when he comes, violently twisting it between his fingers as he moans brokenly against Roy's skin, hips stumbling in their pace. Or, at least Roy _thinks_ he's coming, because he's certainly acting like it, all shuddery and twitchy and _hot_ , but Roy's hand is still dry, and so is his abdomen. Even so, Garth shudders above him and collapses onto his chest, muffling another rough groan against his neck, deep and ragged and music to Roy's tuned nerves. 

Roy keeps stroking, slows a little to try and gauge where Garth's at, but Garth just shudders pleasantly at the stimulation. It seems full-body, and Roy's wondering if that's an Atlantean thing or a Garth thing. He's half-tempted to ask. 

He doesn't, but only because Garth gives it up with a final sigh and shudder and stops grinding against him. Roy squeezes his cock in gentle pulses, enjoying how the head rubs over his stomach with every slight twitch. 

"Was that - did you - " Roy feels a little stupid asking, but swallows down his apprehension to try. "You didn't - " 

"We don't - _come_ like humans do," Garth interrupts, still panting. Heat surges to Roy's cheeks. 

"But you still - " 

" _Yeah_ ," Garth sighs, idly rolling his hips forwards. "Yeah, that felt amazing." 

Roy thinks on that while Garth catches his breath, replaying the last ten minutes over and over in his head until it blurs into a new memory to haunt him. He's got plenty of those from tonight already, but hey, what's one more? 

"You didn't have to," Garth murmurs eventually, while Roy's tapping his fingertips in an idle pattern over the softening shaft. 

"Least I can do," he replies easily, and lets go of Garth to rest his hands on his back instead, just kind of holding him where Garth's collapsed on his chest. He's fucking _heavy_ , but supports enough weight on his own elbows that Roy's not suffocating just yet. Garth snorts a laugh and lifts his head. His gaze is soft but calculating, flicking over Roy's face like he's trying to find an answer to a question he hasn't asked yet. 

"I should shower," Roy blurts out, momentarily hates himself for whatever delicate moment he's shattering completely, for being the one to make Garth's smile falter like that. "Before it comes back. I should - I wanna kiss you." 

He doesn't realise he's said it until the words are slipping out of his mouth, plain and unfiltered and so true it aches. Garth blinks at him, consternation settling in the line of his brow, in the edges of his mouth, and Roy interrupts before he can open his mouth to speak. 

"It's not the toxin," he says quickly, stumbling over himself in a rush to say his piece. "It's not - I want to - I want _you_ , I want - " he doesn't know how to _say_ it, everything seems so ridiculous and sappy after the last hour they've just had together - 

"I want it, too," Garth murmurs. He thumbs Roy's chin and holds him there for a long, discerning moment before kissing him, always knows how to spell it out when Roy can't. His lips are fever-warm against Roy's, soft and yielding when Roy slips his mouth open to tug gently on Garth's lower lip, roll his teeth over the fading indents there and feel Garth shiver underneath his hands. It's somehow more electrifying than the sex. 

Roy has to break the kiss when a shiver scrapes down his spine, reminding him of the stark threat simmering underneath his skin. He sucks in a sharp breath and nudges his nose against Garth's, cautious, very cautious, of how Garth's hips still press against him. It's growing more noticeable by the second, even though he wants nothing more than to just lay here and enjoy the fucking _kissing_. 

It doesn't quite stop him from going for a second one, or a third, but Garth breaks the fourth with a quiet laugh, lifting himself up on his elbows. 

"Roy." 

"What?" Roy frowns impatiently - then pauses, when he realises. "Oh." He stills his subtly shifting hips, feels the embarrassment burn across his cheeks hotter than the arousal that swiftly follows. "Sorry - " 

"Don't be." Garth sweeps a hand up his thigh, gently pinning it to his side. "It's hot. _You're_ hot." He licks his lips and Roy with a meaningful look. "I always wanted to tell you that." Then he starts shuffling backwards, smoothing Roy's legs down to the bed as he drops low onto his forearms - Roy follows, helpless, until he can only prop himself up on his elbows and watch, mouth slack with quiet panting. 

"The _shower_ ," Roy protests, but sinks a hand into Garth's hair when Garth starts peppering kisses up one thigh. It feels completely different now, somehow, knowing what they've confessed, knowing that this is more than fleeting, and Roy burns with belated embarrassment at what he let Garth do to him _before_. 

Garth smirks like he knows what Roy's thinking. Roy briefly entertains how bad the fallout would be if he up and ran right now, but falls roughly off that train of thought when Garth's lips brush the crook of hip and thigh. He whimpers as quietly as he can, as if he could possibly hide how shamelessly hard he is again, as if Garth isn't two inches from his stupid boner. 

"How about I do this first, and then we get you that shower?" Garth asks, cocking an eyebrow. 

"Only if you're gonna fuck me afterwards," Roy quips, breathlessly brave with the blush that sinks into Garth's cheeks. 

"You want me to?" Garth's eyes widen just slightly, something between awe and arousal simmering in them. 

" _God_ , do I want you to," Roy groans, rocking his hips up. "Can't stop _thinking_ about it." He closes his eyes to enjoy the feeling of Garth's fingers drifting closer to him, then abruptly shivers when fingertips press up to his hole again. 

" _Oh_ , please," he murmurs. Garth mumbles something against his thigh, and Roy briefly opens an eye to peek down at him, quietly absorbing the image of a flustered Garth between his legs, before Garth flicks his gaze up to Roy's. 

Roy manages to hold it for approximately two seconds before Garth ducks his head, and then Roy doesn't think much about anything at all. 


End file.
